Billie Jean
by buongiornodaisy
Summary: When an old friend returns to town, Yosuke must face the confusing facts about the past and present. AU. Genderbend. P4/P3.
1. Chapter 1: One Day In Your Life

**Author's Notes: **Well, there's not much to say here. This is a genderbender, so somebody's got boobs, now. KhamanV did the beta for all these chapters. I thank her for that. If you're at all into Lost, definitely check out her fics. They're amazing. Without further adieu...

**Billie Jean, chapter one: One Day In Your Life**

In ten years, where did he see himself?

Junes. Junes, Junes, Junes in deserted Inaba, a ghost town with an inn and a store you could find anywhere else in Japan. Or maybe all the cute little niche shops would vanish and in their place would stand sleek, unidentifiable office buildings: the new civilization Junes had bought. Either way, in ten years? Yosuke would still be at Junes.

He was right. Junes was still there, Yosuke was still there, and some of the shops had closed. There were new buildings in the area near Junes. This was Inaba's new "commercial district". What used to be the central shopping district was now the "historic" district, a title that boggled what remained of the Investigation Team in Inaba. He wasn't greeted with as many sneers and disapproving whispers there as he had been ten years ago, but most of the people who reacted to him that way had moved out or didn't linger around a place with so many bad memories. Meanwhile, of the eight members of the Investigation Team, only he, Chie, Yukiko and Teddie remained in Inaba. Everyone else had moved away.

Compared to most his classmates, his job in the upper management of Inaba's Junes wasn't bad. Only a small percentage of students in any school would grow to be successful. That was as true for Yasogami High as it was for any other school; but of his small group of friends, he stood out as the only person who hadn't decided what to do with his life. Sure, he could say Chie and Teddie were in the same boat if he defined "success" as national or international acclaim, but Chie and Teddie were doing what they had wanted to do and were doing well under the circumstances. Yosuke never had a clue what he wanted to do, had kept working at Junes, waiting for the answer until it was ten years too late to have found it.

Meanwhile, the faces, the voices, the careers of his other friends were all about him in Junes. They were Inaba's golden children, even the ones who weren't originally from Inaba. It was due to most of them that a handful of stores survived in the central shopping district. Because of them Inaba got a tourism and commerce boost, a blessing and a curse, as it also attracted the developers who created the bland new commercial district around Junes. Yosuke lived in one of the newer apartment buildings off the good salary he made working. For all that one could find a building like this elsewhere in Japan, Yosuke's apartment was a nice one. He lived comfortably, finally had that motorcycle he always wanted, didn't have to pinch yen to make ends meet and had plenty of benefits working at Junes. None of his friends looked down at him because he was still working there. Hell, Chie liked him enough to date him and had been doing so for two years. Theirs wasn't a grand, sweeping romance, but it was good enough for the both of them. Really, there was nothing to be dissatisfied with his life on the surface, nothing missing except

"...headphones."

He blinked, and the wall of computer accessories came into focus. He was standing in the electronics section, late in the morning, too early for students on summer break flood in and paw at the trendiest merchandise while chatting up the kids who had to work here. And yet, the person who had mentioned headphones was a teenager. At least that's what he sounded like. Was he here with a friend? Perhaps Yosuke could use his antiquated knowledge of headphone technology to help sell a product to this kid; after all, wasn't he once a teen with a pair of headphones perpetually attached to his person? He walked out from the computer accessories aisle, making a turn into the aisle full of portable music accessories, and

--dodged behind the next row, narrowly avoiding a keyboard. He hoped, and prayed, and hoped and prayed that she didn't see him. To hell with the kid—what the hell was he doing here, anyway? He didn't look young enough to be her son, and he knew she didn't have any young male relatives. Stealthily, he peered over the edge of the aisle in time to see them walk away. He let them go a safe distance before following them, watching them, the woman's hand on the boy's shoulder in what seemed strangely to be a protective gesture. He watched as they stood in line, as they made their purchase and walked out, and he watched as they walked out to the woman's car, a sexy black little number that sped out of the garage with a roar.

"Hanamura-san, are you stalking a customer?"

He turned to face one of the teenage cashiers, giggling with the first of what was sure to be a gaggle of teenagers. He frowned. "No. And you should be working instead of talking."

She rolled her eyes. He walked away.

---

"Oooooh yeah, that's right. I forgot to tell you she was coming back to town." They were sitting at one of the few Inaba restaurants to have survived Junes, one of Chie's old favorites. She was feigning innocence, or so he interpreted.

"How could you forget to tell me something like that?" he groaned.

"I had other things on my mind. Like the vacation."

The vacation she wasn't taking him on. "Why aren't you letting me go with you, again?"

"Because you're busy and this was the only free time I could get. And I needed some time alone." She shrugged, prodding her food. She seemed distracted, restless, not at all like she usually was in this place. In fact she had been that way since they first walked in. Yosuke just now realized this through the fog of his surprise.

Tentatively, he extended his hand, reaching for the one of hers that wasn't stabbing her food. "Everything all right, Chie?"

She pulled her hand away. "Well, ah, I've been doing some thinking and..."

"You're breaking up with me?" It was just a guess.

A very good guess by the way Chie was staring at him.

"...seriously?"

"I...w-well, you know..."

"Why?"

"It's just not working out."

"I thought it was working out just fine!"

She quickly rose to her feet, digging out her wallet and throwing some yen onto the table. "I gotta go back to work. But we can still be friends, right?"

He was speechless.

She patted his shoulder. "I'll see you at Dojima-san's tonight."

And she left before he could come up with a response.

---

Chie, Dojima, Nanako, Teddie and Yukiko (when she could spare the time) made quite the cozy little group after high school. They had taken to eating dinner with each other every now and then. With one exception, everyone else who had moved out of town made the occasional appearance. They generally had a good time. That was when neither of the guests had suddenly become exes, and when no past acquaintances had showed up in town without warning.

Tonight? Yosuke wasn't looking forward to tonight, those two things considered.

He had no doubt that she'd be there, and Chie, too. To be honest he wasn't particularly upset about Chie. He liked her well enough and thought she liked him, too, but neither had grown comfortable enough to do much more than date and spend the night. There had been no talk of cohabitation, no talk of marriage. Maybe her sudden resignation as his romantic interest was due to her finding somebody else? Chie wasn't a gold digger, but he wouldn't blame her for trading him in for someone less pathetic.

He was going to walk to Dojima's house. He didn't have the mental capacity to bike his way there. In his confused mood he'd crash into something, thus incurring the hatred of yet another resident of Inaba. Presumably, the dinner guests would want him there in one piece, so he could sit around Chie with nothing to say because he couldn't think of anything that wasn't incredulous gibberish. Why didn't he just call in sick like all the kids did at Junes?

No, he was here already. Here and—staring at that sexy black number he saw driving out of Junes this morning. He sighed, and peered inside, seeing that all parties, including that strange boy, were occupied and unable to notice Yosuke lurking outside. It wasn't too late. He could always run away—only Chie saw him before he was about to make a run for it and dragged him inside, as if they were still bickering high school friends and not ex-lovers.

"Oh, stop dragging your heels," she said as she brought him through the threshold of the front door. Much to his consternation, she announced his presence to all within earshot, including the tall woman cutting up part of that night's dinner, the very same woman he had seen and hid from Junes this morning. She was staring at him with a fond smirk and shake of her head.

"Took you long enough, Yosuke," she said.

"Yeah. Hello to you, too, Souji," Yosuke replied.


	2. Chapter 2: Human Nature

**Chapter Two: Human Nature**

Following the pattern of the past ten years, Yosuke had a hard time getting in a word with Souji at the dinner party. Nanako was hogging her cousin's time as if she were the one who hadn't seen Souji in years. Yosuke understood why Souji gave so much time to Nanako. They adored each other, saw themselves as siblings rather than cousins, and Nanako could be chatty around people she knew well. All that aside, Nanako was on the verge of departing for college and was grilling her "big bro" for advice. Souji had attended universities in three different countries and had a PhD in psychology. If there was anyone qualified to give a lot of advice about college, it was Souji.

Of all the people in this room besides the kid, Yosuke was the one who wasn't talking to anyone. Chie and Dojima were chatting happily in their corner (in a manner vaguely unsettling to Yosuke), Nanako and Souji still chatting about college in theirs, and the kid was slumped in a chair, idly flipping through songs on his mp3 player, looking back and forth from the screen to Nanako in a manner that was more than vaguely unsettling to Yosuke. It was a little angering, in the way he suspected fathers and big brothers felt at the prospect of young boys checking out their daughters and little sisters. Yosuke cleared his throat. "Nice headphones," he said. That got the boy's attention away from Nanako. "Did you get them from Junes?"

The boy nodded.

"I work there," said Yosuke.

The boy nodded again. "You ducked behind an aisle when you saw us," he replied. "I didn't tell her, if you were wondering. I don't think she noticed." He stared at Yosuke a moment longer before resuming his vigil of the mp3 screen and Nanako. Yosuke stood where he was, mouth slightly agape and cursing himself and this damn kid who--

A screen door slid open and closed, and he suddenly noticed Nanako sitting next to the boy. Souji was outside going through the motions of a bad habit. Giving the room a cursory glance—to the kid and Nanako starting up a conversation, to Chie and Dojima still chatting—he walked ahead and out to the back porch just in time to get the first whiff of cigarette smoke.

"Jesus. You should really stop doing that."

"I know."

She was sitting cross-legged on the back yard patio, staring at the dark sky. Yosuke shook his head, taking a seat next to his old friend.

"I heard Chie broke up with you," she said.

"...yeah," Yosuke replied with a sigh. No one had brought it up all night tonight. He was hoping to avoid it.

"Did she say why?"

"She said it wasn't working out."

Souji remained silent for a moment, taking a drag of the cigarette. "My uncle is going on vacation soon."

"Yeah, I know."

"At the same time as Chie."

"It's a slow time at the station."

The look Souji gave him was an odd one—an incredulous, confused, vaguely disappointed look, as if Yosuke had got the answer wrong to a question as simple as "what's one plus one?" She shook her head and looked back to the sky, breathing out a plume of smoke.

"So, uh, how have you been?"

She shrugged. "Busy."

Yosuke nodded. "Yeah...Chie forgot to tell me you were moving back here."

"Chie is sleeping with my uncle."

There was a long pause, a very long pause in which Yosuke would have dropped something had he been holding anything. At the end of it, the only thing he could bring himself to say was, "What?!"

"It's just a feeling I have. They're very...close, tonight." The cigarette had been reduced to a butt, which she casually flicked into the grass. She rose to her feet, brushing down her pants legs. "Have you met him?" she asked, jerking her head back to the house.

Yosuke looked behind him, to the kid who was still chatting up Nanako. "The kid?" he asked. Souji nodded.

"I think he's worse than I was when I was..."

"His age?"

She didn't nod, but looked to the grass.

"How'd you get stuck with him, anyway? You don't seem like the adopting type."

"It's a long story." She checked her watch. "We have to go. I'll see you around."

And for the second time that day, Yosuke was left alone before he could come up with a response.

---

The next day, Yosuke almost ran into a petite woman standing in front of one of the new office buildings.

"Naoto?"

It was Naoto all right. She had changed over the years, no longer doggedly masculine like she was when he first met her, which didn't mean she had traded in her boyish clothes for an exclusively feminine wardrobe. She had simply decided to focus more on solving cases and less on her apperance; and, indeed, ten years later she was still an ace detective, albeit one on the trail of a certain tall gentleman currently conversing with a slightly shorter, bespectacled gentleman inside the office building.

"In a rush, are you?" she said wryly, before giving Yosuke a hug.

"What are you guys doing in town?" Yosuke asked after they separated.

"Kanji wants to talk Souji into doing another shoot for him." She shook her head, staring at the still ongoing conversation inside. Yes, that was Kanji and Souji in there, Souji evidently wearing a different set of undergarments today than he—she—had worn yesterday. The flat chest wasn't anything new to Yosuke. The glasses were, although they did look familiar...

"I told Kanji that he wouldn't be able to talk Souji out of the career he's been studying for the past eight years," Naoto continued, "but he...insisted, and we hadn't visited town in quite a while..."

"You missed Dojima-san's dinner last night," Yosuke replied.

"Oh? I most sincerely regret that. Unfortunately, our visit here was done on the fly, otherwise we would have gotten into contact with one of you. How are you and Chie doing, by the way?"

"We aren't."

Naoto looked at him, confused.

Yosuke shrugged. "She broke up with me yesterday. Souji seems to think she's sleeping with Dojima."

Naoto's eyes widened. "What would make him say a thing like that?"

"Who knows. Said h—she had a feeling."

Naoto frowned. "After he's been here for all of a day... Very perceptive. A good quality to have in a psychologist, though I remain uncertain as to the veracity of his claim. I suspect you've met his ward?"

"You mean that kid that follows her around everywhere?"

Naoto nodded.

"Yeah. Where did that come from? She didn't seem like the adopting type."

"It is strange story. Much stranger than you or I know. What little I know is strange enough."

"How so?"

Naoto looked back to the building. "You recall where we took our Cultural Exchange trip during my first year at Yasogami High?"

"Port Island?"

Naoto nodded. "When I learned that Souji had become legal guardian to this child, I did a quick investigation. My first action was to call Rise, who had been the last person to speak with Souji before he emerged with this child. According to Rise, Souji made an overnight trip to Port Island without explaining why. The next day he came back with the boy. His name is Minato Arisato." She turned to Yosuke with a deeply troubled expression. "Twelve years ago...Minato...died from unknown causes."


	3. Chapter 3: The Kid is Not My Son

**Chapter Three: The Kid is Not My Son**

Minato Arisato was a transfer student at Yasogami High, a senior. He seemed like an odd combination of Yosuke and Souji—a quiet kid with an affinity for headphones—and, if the direction Minato's gaze often took meant anything, he was as fond of the ladies as Souji (not an act, from Rise's reports). However, unlike Souji and Yosuke, Minato was fond of sleeping. Yosuke would often come across him knocked out on a table in the food court only to have Souji or, oddly enough, Teddie, wake him up. He wasn't sure how or why the kid developed a relationship with Teddie, but the two did interact, and when they did the result almost always resulted in the two vanishing.

He was pretty sure Teddie liked girls, and that Souji would kill Teddie if he tried anything with Minato. Nothing...odd...was going on between the two, right? In any case, there was something to be gained from the relationship. Souji didn't talk about Minato at all except to say he was doing well at school. All Yosuke had to do was mention Naoto to make Souji reach for the cigarettes and a swift subject change. He had a feeling pressing Souji for an answer would make her angry. Their relationship was already on shaky ground. Sure, they met very often for lunch, but Souji had a guarded nature about her that just wasn't there ten years ago, at least not before she wound up in the hospital. If he couldn't talk to Souji about Minato, he'd have to go to someone else who knew the kid. He'd have to talk to Teddie.

"Oh, you mean Little Sensei?" Teddie said, after the inquiry had been made.

"Little...Sensei?"

"Yeah, Sensei's s...kid! He's a great fighter, just like his mo...uh..." Teddie looked to the floor, then quickly bounced on the balls of his feet, looking back up to Yosuke. "A-anyway. Why do you ask?"

"I saw you two talking, and—hey, by the way, where the hell do you guys go after you're done talking?"

"Just inside the TV."

"...what?"

"Sensei and Little Sensei have their practice sessions in there."

"Doing what?"

"You know, using their personas and stuff!"

"W—" No. Yosuke grabbed Teddie by the arm and dragged him into a more secluded place, someplace where customers wouldn't overhear gibberish about "personas and stuff". "You're saying that kid can use a persona?"

"More than one. That's why I call him Little Sensei!"

Yosuke stared at Teddie. He felt like a fuse had been blown in his brain and that he would be unable to find it and repair it, and that that fuse would be dangling unrepairable for eternity, ready to zap the good parts of his brain into a dysfunctional haze. It had been ten years since Yosuke had to worry about using his persona. Teddie had done a superb job protecting the world he had come from, the once-foggy landscape of the human psyche that existed behind the TV, keeping it free from those who wished to use it for ill. Why Souji felt the need to practice with personae, why this kid even had the ability to use them...

"Uh, Yosuke? Earth to Yosuke?"

Yosuke was there but not responding. Teddie reached up and tapped on Yosuke's forehead, to no avail. Teddie sighed.

"Do you want to see them fight? They're gonna go at it this afternoon!"

As Yosuke did not immediately respond, Teddie took the answer to be yes.

---

The world behind the television was just as beautiful, just as nostalgic as it was when he had been there last. It was no longer a place Yosuke could envision people fighting in. Teddie had bought them to just outside an open plane where, sure enough, "Sensei and Little Sensei" were standing. "Little Sensei" was dressed in his school uniform, toting what appeared to be the unfair advantage of two weapons: a one handed sword and a gun placed in a hip holster. "Sensei" was wearing a white buttoned down shirt (she always seemed to be wearing a white buttoned down shirt), a black skirt that stopped just below the knee and a pair of flat black boots. It was a nice outfit, nicely coordinated, fit her figure well...

...enough for her to deftly sidestep a swipe at the abdomen from the kid's one-handed sword.

"Wh—"

"Shh!"

Teddie placed his paw over Yosuke's mouth, watching like a child at the circus as the two sensei sparred. Forced into silence, Yosuke watched as well, noticing that Souji had greatly improved at wielding a sword. Had she taken classes? Most likely, a guess he yet again could make only by the grace of Rise's reports. Souji appeared to have the upper hand—appeared, that is, until the kid pulled the gun out from his holster.

"Hey w—"

"Shh! They're just getting to the good part!"

"But—"

But, the kid didn't aim the gun at Souji. He aimed it at himself, at his head, and for a moment Yosuke was convinced he was about to see something horrible. Instead, he heard a sound like glass shattering, saw the swelling of blue light and a figure emerging from a sea of blue...

"That's how he summons his persona?"

Teddie said nothing.

Yosuke watched as the two duked it out with their myriad personae, more perplexed by Minato's method of summoning his personae than engaged by the actual battle. Some part of his brain registered that the battle was more difficult than the average battles fought by the Investigation Team under Souji's direction, but much of his mental energy was given to wondering if shooting oneself in the head repeatedly incurred brain damage. That might explain why the kid slept so much...

"It's time to get you out of here before they notice," said Teddie. He pulled Yosuke up by the arm, leading him away from the clearing.

---

Yosuke saw the kid drooling on a text book in the Junes food court the next day. He debated. He debated a lot. Eventually, he crossed over to the kid's table, tapping him on the shoulder repeatedly until—until shaking him on the shoulder was the next best option. Minato blearily blinked to consciousness, looking up to Yosuke with unfocused eyes. "Eugh?" he said.

"...uh, hi. Are you hungry?" Yosuke stretched his arm to scratch the back of his head. That was a stupid question.

"Hrrrmmm..." The kid's head collapsed back on the table, making Yosuke uneasy. The kid shot himself in the head to summon his personae. Should he really be damaging his head more? "...yes," Yosuke heard him say, "but...I wait until she gets here..."

"Nah. I can get you something. Won't be as good as her cooking, but it'll be free."

Minato stared at Yosuke through the haze of his grogginess and hair. He turned his face away, then, pushing himself up to something approximating an upright position. He nodded.

Moments later, Yosuke returned to the table with two small plates full of food and a mind full of questions, one in particular: why was he doing this? Why was he feeing Souji's kid? He was curious, yes, but feeding the kid was Souji's responsibility. The guardian's responsibility. The parent's. He felt his lips purse as he sat Minato's plate in front of the boy and took a seat on the other end of the table. "Thank you," Minato said. "So you're Saki's friend?"

"...Souji, yes," Yosuke said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Oh, right." Minato nibbled on his food. "Wasn't that weird? Finding out she was a girl?"

Yosuke shrugged, scratching his ear. "Nah. We already had a friend turn out to be a girl instead of a boy. It did cause a commotion when news got out. Guys didn't touch anybody until the end of term because they were afraid their friends were really girls and their girlfriends were really boys."

Minato laughed. "That must've been odd. I wonder why she did it." He ducked his head, taking a bite of his food.

"It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell it to you one day."

"Why don't you tell it to me now?"


	4. Chapter 4: Another Part of Me

**Chapter Four: Another Part of Me**

There was only one person in their group they called leader, who had a few valuable brain cells to spare for a tough case and could approach strangers without fear of asking a random question, good qualities to have when trying to investigate a case as cold as the murders. It was just too bad that when the Investigation Team needed that person the most, that person had to go render herself unconscious.

But, hey, on the bright side, at least she wasn't dead.

They thought they had it all figured out. People were thrown by Namatame into the television set, wandered into some twisted architectural rendering of their psyches where they manifested a shadow, the dark, so-called "true" version of the self. If nobody was there to save the person, and if the person just couldn't accept that they were flawed, they died; but if someone came along who could use a persona like the Investigation Team could, and stopped the shadow from attacking, and if the person had the strength to admit they were flawed, the person was saved, and a persona was born. That's how they all gained their personae, by admitting there was a part of them they just didn't want other people to see, a part of them that was selfish, lonely, insecure. That's how they all came across their personae, with one exception.

So they acted on this information as if it were the truth, as if their leader was a flawless god who had nothing to hide. Then they found that damn Namatame, and everything they knew started to be challenged. Namatame thought sending people to their deaths in a twisted Jungian funhouse was a good way to save them, took little Nanako into that television with him and almost killed her—did kill her, they once believed, until they reemerged from his hospital room to find out she had been revived. Great news, kinda sorta. They had disposed of Namatame the same way he disposed of Mayumi Yamano and Saki Konishi, by throwing him into the television set to let his smug shadow "save" him there, but they had done so to avenge Nanako's death. Now she was alive? Well. He had killed two people, so perhaps it was fair. In any case Souji should be glad to hear about his cousin.

Only, where was he?

Yosuke remembered turning around, looking for his partner and telling him the good news, only to find a blank space where that gray haired boy should've been. They hadn't gone anywhere but out of Namatame's room, so it wasn't as if Souji could've vanished anywhere, right? Right?

He posed it as an innocent question, not adding "I think he might've gone in after Namatame". He thought so not because Souji wanted to kill the bastard himself, but because Souji had tried his damnedest to stop everyone else from throwing Namatame into the television. Nobody listened. Namatame had killed Nanako, and how dare Souji not care about his cousin? He'd thank them later, when he came to his senses. Senses he didn't have if he in fact ran off into the television after Namatame.

"We gotta check the television," was what he brought himself to say eventually, and everyone gave nervous glances to Namatame's room, knowing that going to that world through that television was dangerous. Rise and Teddie wouldn't risk it. They'd all have to go to school the next day, act as if their friend wasn't missing—he was just in the hospital with his cousin and uncle, you understand, that's the only family he has right now—and go to Junes in the afternoon, hop into the television in the electronics section and watch as Rise's persona scanned the skies to find where Souji was. Rise could sense two people, Namatame and somebody else, but where the somebody else was, she couldn't say. They hoped that the other person wasn't Souji, but he didn't show up in school the next day. Rise scanned the television world again and came back with a report nobody expected to hear: yes, there was another person in there, and they had created another dungeon, and that person _was not_ Namatame.

They had to take new measures. Investigate. Naoto called Souji's old school only to discover that no such student with that name had attented that school. They tried talking to the school authorities, his other friends—no dice. School authorities barked that it wasn't any of their business where he came from and Souji's other friends couldn't tell them what they didn't know, at least not anything that would help them find him in the television set. So Naoto went to visit Dojima. That's when the first bombshell dropped—because when you're angry, distraught and confused that the guy who might've almost killed your daughter is missing along with another close relative, you aren't going to do that relative the courtesy of calling her your nephew. Naoto was able to get more information out of him after he grumbled some more about "this television nonsense": he didn't quite like that Saki was now "Souji" but he could understand, because she had been bullied for being too tall, too skinny, odd (especially around girls), not girlish enough and that voice – Dojima was certain that was the one thing she didn't change about the way she presented herself to the world.

Equipped with the knowledge that Dojima had provided them, they all entered the television and found a new dungeon: a series of wooden corridors, almost like a shrine, that lead to a giant Noh stage, the site of the standoff between Souji and his—_her_—shadow in the form of a Noh actor, or actress. It was hard to tell, though the gender didn't matter so much as the masks. The shadow had many of them, whichever one the audience wanted to see. Saki Seta? Souji Seta? A smart student, a brave leader? A sympathetic friend, a charming lover? Whichever personality they wanted, that's what she would be. Of course, the girl had to be stupid and deny that was part of her, no matter how many times she saw how well a shadow responded to denial; and then, to the shock and horror of them all, she decided to fight the damn thing by herself. Yosuke had to carry her unconscious figure out of the television world after they subdued the thing for her, because she had done only half the battle—admirable, but incomplete, and by the end of it they were too stunned to formulate a concrete emotion about what had happened.

But Yosuke, poor Yosuke. He was just confused. How do you respond to your best guy pal being a girl? He was the one who spent the most time in her hospital room just staring at her, as if her unconscious face would give him an answer about what to make of their relationship, of their feelings, his feelings. The name didn't help. The name scared him to death. He'd have to go on calling her Souji, regardless what he heard in that dungeon—

_(If I ignore everything I can just pretend he's talking about me.)_

Yosuke tried to re-imagine her as a girl, even though her face and hair looked the same as before. The hospital clothes revealed not much of anything. If Rise had gotten hold of her test results the day Naoto had them all examined she merely would have been surprised that Souji had a bust, not by the numbers—and that he was thinking about such things as bust sizes, besides that he was staring at her, was disturbing as hell.

He reached out for one of the hands resting on top of the hospital bed sheet and clasped his hand around it. Whatever. She was a girl. She was a girl he couldn't stop staring at (_and was that anything new, staring at Souji?_), but whatever. He hoped this didn't mean they had to stop being friends. And then it was just a simple thing, an idle temptation, and he reached up to brush a lock of hair from her face—

—and her eyes opened wide just before his hand could touch her hair, and she gasped. Yosuke jerked back into his chair so hard he thought he would fall backwards onto the floor. When he came to, he found that Souji was directing that wild-eyed stare at him.

"You're not one of them, are you?"

"One of what?"

"The ones that want what's behind the d..." She shook her head, closing her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Composing herself. She pushed her legs up, resting her elbow her knees and burying her face in her hand. "Probably just a bad dream."

"Oh."

And it took him a moment before he wrapped Souji into the vice-like hug a disapproving nurse found them locked in just a few seconds later.

---

"Did she ever tell you what she saw?" asked Minato.

Yosuke shook his head. "It probably was a bad dream."

"Probably." Just then, Minato twitched, as if he had an itch on his hip. He pulled out his cell phone from one of his pants pockets and stared at the screen. "She's going to be late."

"Doing what?"

"Work."

"But she has no clients."

"Not here," Minato said, placing his phone back in his pocket.

"Then where?"

"All over. I know some of them."

"What are they, like, relatives or something?"

"Old friends."

"From middle school?"

"High school."

"Right." Yosuke frowned. If Naoto was right, Minato surely meant his old high school friends from twelve years ago. He wasn't going to breach that subject with the kid, though. Not right now. They weren't that close yet. Yet... "Say, why don't you text her and tell her I'll walk you home? That is, if you don't mind. I mean, she knows me. She knows I'm not a serial killer or anything like that."

"Are you?" Minato gave him a blank stare. Yosuke squirmed in his seat. He was innocent, but that kid's stare was disconcerting. It was like he was staring into Yosuke's soul...

But Minato laughed. "I'll tell her," he said.

---

He hadn't had a walk home this nice since, well—that involved Chie. Chie, who was off on vacation at the same time as Dojima, both of who vehemently denied that anything was going on between them before they had left. Minus the heartbreak, it was a comical scene, with Souji giving them both annoyed glances that could not be concealed behind her glasses. (He had figured out why they seemed so familiar when he saw them the first time: they were the very same glasses she had worn inside the television set ten years ago. When Yosuke joked that Souji was feeling nostalgic, she admitted that it was both true and false. The lenses had changed, they were prescription—and if he wanted the full story he should ask Rise—but, yes, she had been feeling nostalgic. There was also a touch of shiftiness in her story that made Yosuke suspect there was more to it.) Souji eventually got them to admit it was the truth, and Dojima grudgingly said that Souji should've become a detective instead of a psychologist. "You already have a detective like me," Souji had said, "and she's much better than I could ever aspire to. Besides, I like psychology. I like being the Naoto Shirogane of psychology."

His walk home with Minato did not deal with anything so touchy as heartbreak. In fact, all they talked about was music. Minato casually talked about his tastes in music from over a decade ago as if he had the misfortune of being born ten years too late, while Yosuke tried to respond to that as if Naoto hadn't told him about Minato's past. "But that's not as bad as Saki," Minato said, "because I swear the only thing she listens to is Michael Jackson."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I caught her dancing to him a few months ago when she was a little drunk, and ever since she's stopped trying to act as if she's up to date with music. She said something like when she was a kid she didn't go out much, so she sat around listening to her parents' music. And they were really in to Western music. She never grew out of it." Minato laughed. "She's actually a good dancer..."

"Yeah, I remember her telling me her parents made her take dance lessons when she was young..." Yosuke's answer sounded distant even to himself. He was thinking. Souji confessed she didn't listen much to music ten years ago. It made complete sense that he wouldn't know what she liked if she never gave him the chance to investigate further, but it was odd, that he had been her best friend ten years ago, that he had seen her dungeon, fought her shadow, and still, to this day, didn't know everything about her.


	5. Chapter 5: Just Good Friends

**Chapter Five: Just Good Friends**

"Remember the first time we were all here?"

"Uh, I'd rather not. You know how scared my mom was when I got back home? She thought I'd fallen down three flights of stairs."

"Just about."

"Senpai sure was lucky as fuck she had somethin' to hide. She would have been out of comic material for a week."

But Kanji was laughing, clutching a bottle of beer as he sat a seat across from Yosuke in the lobby of the Amagi Inn. Minus one, the entirety of the Investigation Team had been here ten years ago, relaxing after the conclusion of Yasogami High's Culture Festival. Minus one had claimed to be ill and thus incapable of joining them, and had been acting strange all day, insisting she dress and undress alone for the "Miss" Yasogami Pageant. They all learned later, of course, that she had done so because she had something to hide. Most perplexedly, she had worn what turned out to be her original Yasogami uniform—the girl's uniform—and had still lost. Deliberate? She apparently never answered the question directly.

Yosuke leaned back in his chair, grinning to himself. His mind, his life, and those around them seemed to balk at the recollections he had shared with Minato, countering them with more pleasant memories. He had awoken with them in mind this morning and had stayed there all through today, leading him to pose that question to Kanji as they settled in their seats. In this instance he could hardly be blamed: he didn't often have the chance to speak to Kanji or Naoto, who were among the first Investigation Team members to have moved out of Inaba and were not frequent visitors due to their respective careers. They had moved out together, were now visiting together, and would leave together. Married couples did that.

Naoto was presently hovering around the front desk some feet away from where Yosuke and Kanji sat. Kanji frequently glanced at her, saying nothing. When a lull in conversation had formed, Yosuke asked: "What's she waiting for?"

"Some package."

"For an investigation?"

Kanji sighed, irritably. "You could say that."

"What do you mean, 'I could say that'?"

He sighed again and took a sip of the beer bottle he had been holding. "You know Senpai's kid? Minty or whatever?"

"Minato."

"Yeah."

"What about him?"

"It's just..." Kanji glanced at Naoto again, then pushed himself to the edge of his seat, leaning in to Yosuke and lowering his voice. "Naoto's been obsessed with finding out where that kid came from. Ain't normal for her at all, but the hell can I do? Whenever I tell her she's in this too deep she blows me off."

Yosuke frowned. "Seriously?"

"Yeah! I mean I get she might be pissed Senpai's hiding something from us again, but I dunno. It's her kid. Maybe she's got a damn good reason to want to protect him, though I don't know why she wants to protect him from us."

"You know, Naoto-kun did tell me something interesting about Minato..."

"That he's dead, right?"

Yosuke nodded.

"That's what she's waitin' for. Documents that prove the kid's dead. Let me tell you, I have never heard Naoto lie so creatively in her life." Oddly enough, Kanji was beaming with pride—a momentary expression. His face darkened.

"So what the hell's she going to do with those documents?"

"Hell if I know. Show 'em to Senpai, I guess. Shit—here she comes." Kanji pushed himself back into his chair, feigning a casual appearance. Yosuke looked over his shoulder in time to see Naoto come level to them. She held in her hand a stuffed manila envelope.

"Good evening, Yosuke-senpai. I trust you've been well today?"

"Never better."

"That's good to hear," she said with a nod and a small grin. "I hate to greet and run, but I must review this package. Shall we meet down here later for dinner?"

"Fine with me," Yosuke said, and added, with an attempt to avoid bitterness, "I've got no plans tonight."

Naoto's resulting grin was terse. "Excellent. I'll see you later, then." And she left, giving Kanji's shoulder a squeeze before heading towards the stairs.

"Not even a goodbye kiss?" Yosuke joked.

"She'll pay me back later," Kanji said slyly.

"Too much information."

"You asked."

"No I didn't!"

Kanji laughed; Yosuke rolled his eyes, and just then caught sight of another man sitting not too far away from them, looking in their direction with a bemused smirk. He was dressed well, obviously waiting for someone, and looked to be just a few years older than Yosuke despite the gray hair. Yosuke would have been mortified to find that the man had heard their conversation had he not been in a good mood. Instead, he grinned mischievously and said, "Just ignore that guy. He has no sense of propriety."

"What?" Kanji replied. "Do you even know what that word means?"

"Do you?"

The other man laughed. "It's all right," he replied.

"Visiting town?" Yosuke asked. The man nodded. "How are you finding the inn?"

"Gotta say, it's a lot better than most of the places I've been."

Yosuke chuckled. "Got that right. Of course, I'm biased. I know the manager. Yukiko Amagi. Have you met her?" The man shook his head. "Ah, well, she's hard to track down. Usually she'll breeze by, say about ten sentences in as many seconds and rush off again. But she's doing one hell of a job keeping this place up."

"I'll say."

"Yeah," barked Kanji. "Hey, you waitin' for someone?"

"I am," the man admitted with a nod and an anxious smile. "Friend of mine."

"'Friend', huh?" Yosuke asked with a wink. The man's smile turned awkward, rueful, and he scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah. Friend." He looked up, then, his head scratching coming to a halt. "Oh, there she is." He rose to his feet, hastily told Yosuke and Kanji that it was nice to meet them both, then strode over to the front desk, where stood his "friend" standing tall and lovely in a high-collar, belted black dress—and those very, very familiar glasses.

"Souji?" Yosuke groaned.

"Damn, she looks good," said Kanji. "Of course, I did make that dress—"

But Yosuke wasn't paying attention. He was too busy watching them greet each other—she gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek—to really care what Kanji had designed and for who. Too busy watching them, and too busy trying to ignore the reason why he cared.

---

"Oh, I believe that's an acquaintance of Arisato's," Naoto said impassively later that night at dinner. Her portion of the table was covered with documents in addition to food, almost as if the documents were the main course and the food a side dish.

"They seemed cozy," Yosuke muttered into his glass of wine. Naoto looked up at him as if she had just realized he was there.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing."

"Oh." She resumed staring at the documents. Kanji gave Yosuke a sympathetic shake of the head, then resumed contemplation of his own glass of alcohol.

"Do you know what his name is?" asked Yosuke.

"Kirijo..." Naoto's eyes scanned the documents half concerned, half in awe. "Yes, Kirijo did own the building where the remains were stored...yes, that makes perfect sense..."

"Naoto, what the hell are you talking about?"

Again, Naoto looked up to Yosuke as if she had just realized he was there. "Hmm?"

"What's all this about remains?"

"Ah." Lowering her voice, she replied, "I believe there is a cover-up behind Souji taking this boy as his ward. Arisato's remains were stored in one of the newer, interactive plots owned by the Kirijo Group—a company that so happens to be run by a former classmate of Arisato's."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that this case involves the removal of human remains."

"So you mean...she...she..." Yosuke's words barely came out above a horrified whisper. He caught Kanji taking a rather generous sip of his drink.

"Can we talk about something else, now?" Kanji asked. "All this talk about...you know...it'd be a damn shame to let all this food go to waste."

"I apologize," Naoto replied, sweeping up the documents into one neat pile. "I'll leave the subject to rest for now. I plan to speak to her about this later, however, after dinner."

"Hey, guys!"

That wasn't anyone sitting at the table. That was Yukiko, who had appeared by their table, evidently making the rounds.

"Enjoying your dinner?"

Kanji gave Yukiko a very weak grin.

"That's good," Yukiko replied, ignoring the nuance behind Kanji's grin. "Oh, did you know Saki—" her eyes darted to Yosuke "—I mean Souji is here? I think she's having dinner with her boyfriend. Well, I don't know if he's her boyfriend, she just called earlier today to say that she'd be over, and I just saw her with some man—" She giggled. "If he really is her boyfriend, I'd feel sorry for any kids they'd have. They'd all go gray by five!"

Yosuke gave a very unenthusiastic laugh.

"W-well, I gotta go. You all take care, okay?"

When she was out of earshot, Kanji asked, "What's gotten into you, senpai?"

Yosuke didn't answer.

---

"I feel like I'm in a damn cartoon, senpai."

Yosuke and Kanji were holed up around a corner, spying Naoto and Souji as they sat across from each other by a lit fireplace. Yosuke sighed and replied, "Well, you're the one who wanted to watch."

"I ain't the only one." And that was true.

The two women had just sat down to talk. Souji's...friend...had gone, left with the order Yosuke swore was "wait for me." Of all the things he could've been thinking about, like the palpable tension between Souji and Naoto, he had to think of that.

_What's gotten in to you, Yosuke?_

He didn't want to answer.

"Not gonna lie, I'm worried about her," said Kanji, his voice breaking through Yosuke's thoughts.

"About who?" asked Yosuke.

"Naoto. You know she and senpai are close. Were close, 'specially after the truth got out about senpai. Not that often you come across someone like yourself, when you're Naoto. That's why she keeps callin' senpai 'him' and 'he'. Kinda affectionately, you know? I dunno. I'm just afraid she's gonna get hurt, her pushin' this case with Arisato and all."

"Hmm." He had a point, and it made Yosuke frown. It was true Naoto was setting herself up to be hurt by pushing this issue on Souji, who had proven to be highly protective of Minato. Yosuke could barely get a word out of her about the boy. Try to ask about anything other than school and she quickly changed the subject.

"Oh, shit."

Yosuke focused on the present, the drama that was starting to unfold before his eyes. Naoto had taken out the documents, documents which Souji quickly threw into the fireplace. Naoto didn't get any words in before Souji stood up and walked away. Naoto stared at Souji's retreating back, looking incensed and defeated.

---

Yosuke collapsed on the couch in his apartment and stared blankly at the television set, relieved to be away from the doom and gloom that were Kanji and Naoto. He was tired, he was angry, and he was frustrated with himself. The level of denying he'd done all evening in regards to Souji and her "friend" was enough to spawn a new monster in the television world, and what the hell? Wasn't like he could do anything about it, anyway. All the fond memories of the past meant shit in the present, when the fondest memory of all slipped past his fingers, grew apart from him and formed new bonds. He didn't have a claim on his old friend. He hadn't kept in regular contact with her, just sat back and watched as her letters grew more and more concise. He didn't like that Souji might have a boyfriend? That was his own damn fault. He never told her he was interested to begin with, had likely led her to believe she was nothing more to him than one of the guys, because her being anything more than that was weird. He was probably to blame for what happened with Chie, so busy feeling sorry for himself, thinking he wasn't worthy of anyone more than another poor soul trapped in Inaba with an unglamorous job, that he didn't realize she was growing apart from him, growing towards someone who gave a damn about her, paid attention to her, appreciated her.

_Buzz_.

He jumped in his seat. Last time he heard that noise in his apartment, Chie was coming over to visit. He wasn't expecting anyone tonight, hadn't been expecting anyone for a while. It buzzed again, and he frowned, wondering who it was. "Hello?" called a voice from the speaker. Yosuke rose to his feet and darted to the speaker to answer the call.

"Souji?" he said.

"...yeah," she replied. Hard to tell over the speaker, but she sounded vaguely disappointed.

"Hold on." Yosuke clumsily pushed the button to let her through. He began to pace, fiddling with his hair, his shirt, his tie—stop. Why was he doing that? She didn't give a damn. He wasn't nearly as handsome as whats-his-name back at the Amagi Inn or wherever he was now. Probably in her house, in her bed, wondering where she'd gone.

Ha. Wouldn't that be something?

_Knock, knock_. He rushed to open the door. She was still wearing her glasses, which only magnified how red the area was around her eyes. She was holding two bottles of hard liquor. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Where's your glasses? Your drinking glasses?"

Confused, he told her the location, and she walked in without a word, straight to the kitchen, looking for a glass. She found two, placed them on the counter and opened one of the bottles, pouring a glass which she handed to Yosuke. He shook his head. "I'm not in the mood."

"It's not an offer."

"Okay, then what—"

"It's an order. Drink it."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to tell you what Naoto wants to know."


	6. Chapter 6: Stranger in Moscow

**Chapter 6: Stranger in Moscow**

Another train station, another move, another school. To university, this time. It had nothing to do with her parents, their career, their inability to give their daughter the time of day on a clock. She made the decision to study in Kyoto, and she made the decision to study psychology. That wasn't what her parents wanted her to do, but they had never created a coherent plan for her future. Too busy not being there to do so.

They didn't see her off to Kyoto. Unsurprising, as they hadn't been there to see her off to Inaba with her short hair and boy's clothes. She closed her eyes, lightly tapping the back of her head against the wall. She was fairly certain that only she occupied this bench and that no one was approaching. Why, then, was there someone sitting next to her when she opened her eyes a few seconds later?

"Hello."

It was a woman, a pale woman wearing purple everything: purple dress, purple boots, purple gloves and a purple hat. She was blonde, yellow-eyed, beautiful. Just like Margaret.

"I believe you knew my sister, correct?" Her voice was impish, seductive, and her grin plastered on for the purpose. "My name is Elizabeth. It's an honor to meet you." She gave Saki the once-over (Saki wondered if she should specify her sex, but decided against it), then continued: "I have a favor to ask of you. Has my sister ever told you the tale of the soul that slumbers at the ends of the world?"

Saki nodded. That was the story Margaret had told her after their battle was done, the story of a young man who had given his life to become a seal. Saki would have felt self-satisfied after Izanami's defeat, knowing that one did not have to die to protect humanity from its basest desires, had it not been for a certain encounter she had when she was, for all intents and purposes, dead...

_...she had been the last the go, the only one to have seen all her friends sink, one by one, into the underworld, their mission failed. Could she be blamed for having such a thin grip on consciousness, a weak will to stay alive? This was the end. She had failed. No amount of power and strength amassed could defeat a goddess fueled by the accumulated desires of all mankind._

And yet, fading as she was from consciousness, from life, she recalled the dream she had in the hospital, of her standing alone in the starry sky, a great, golden door before her, sealed by the figure of a boy...

"It is possible to surpass the destructive will of mankind," she heard a voice say—unfamiliar, young. A teenage boy's voice. "You must know that is your purpose, as much as it was mine."

"She told me you were trying to save him."

"Doing so on my own is impossible without the help of those who have bonded with him."

"I don't know him."

"You're certain of this?" The look Elizabeth gave Saki was knowing. "You've seen him. You've seen what he is doing to protect humanity. You can also see me, and you've been a guest of the Velvet Room. Like him, you possess the Wild Card ability. You've also proved yourself to be as capable creating bonds strong enough to fuel the power to save all humanity. That makes you special."

Saki looked away. More talk about her being _special_—well, that was all flattering, but... "What is it that you want me to do?" she asked. Give up her life, was that it? She'd given up so much already. Did she have to give up her whole life, too?

Elizabeth replied, "Just talk. You'll find it amazing, how receptive they'll be to you. When you find them all, you should find where he rests. With the connections you've formed you might be able to perform a miracle."

That caused Saki turned to look at Elizabeth—but Elizabeth was gone.

---

Yukari Takeba was overly fond of pink. It hurt Saki's eyes, sensibilities. The feeling was mutual: Yukari thought Saki's grayscale genderqueer wardrobe was odd, too. And she hated Saki's smoking habit. Saki did, too, but she had been doing it since she was twelve. What could she do? "Quit," Yukari would say. Words of wisdom from Saki's senpai.

Yukari was native to the city. Saki had never been. Inexplicably, the junior used that as a reason to take the freshman under her wing, though Saki was certain there were less odd people for Yukari to hang around with. But, somehow, some way, Yukari liked Saki. The feeling was mutual. Saki's feelings towards Yukari weren't entirely noble, but as Yukari seemed neither interested in a relationship with a woman nor attracted to Saki, she didn't bother.

In some ways, Yukari was Saki's first patient. Once their relationship evolved into something more than a tourist and her guide Yukari felt comfortable opening up, confessing that she sometimes felt lonely and angry over something that had happened a few years ago, and that she felt frustrated about it all. She thought she'd gotten over that. Was it impossible to get over? Saki didn't think so. It wasn't as easy as saying (_you are me_) it's time move on. It was an ongoing battle, one where you might stumble, fall, and wonder if you should surrender because it's easier that way. She reached out for Yukari's hand, to emphasize this point: that giving up was always wrong, and the rewards for persevering through the long war would be greater than she imagined. Yukari looked at Saki pensively and nodded. "You're right."

Saki felt that she was one step closer to something, to that miracle Elizabeth told her about. Why she felt that way, she couldn't say.

---

Through Yukari, Saki met Fuuka Yamagishi, who met Kanji through Saki. Fuuka was a photographer. Kanji had just started designing clothes seriously and needed a model, and a photographer. Saki just so happened to look good in Kanji's clothes. Fuuka wasn't a talkative girl, and there was some sort of tension between her and Saki which Saki could not identify. It was as if Fuuka was sensing something about Saki but was afraid to name it.

One day, she pulled Saki aside and asked her if she knew what a persona was.

"It's a psychological term," Saki had replied, suppressing any odd reaction she might have to the question.

"Oh. And a shadow?"

"All psychological. Are you interested in that? I suggest you read Carl Jung. They're both terms of his." Saki was about to walk away when Fuuka asked,

"But can you use a persona?"

Saki stopped in her tracks, regarding Fuuka carefully. Her eventual response was a nod.

---

Yukari wasn't sure why "Stupei" wanted to talk to Saki, but she said he had talked to Fuuka, who had told him about Saki, and now he was interested. Saki had a sneaking suspicion as to the nature of Junpei Iori and Fuuka's conversation, and barely blinked when the young man said Fuuka told him she could use a persona. "More than one," she admitted.

"Oh. You mean like him."

He showed her a picture of him and a blue haired boy wearing headphones, and asked her what was wrong, because she had suddenly become pale. She shook her head and asked him to elucidate on the boy further. He said his name was Minato, that years ago they used to be part of a team that fought shadows during something called the Dark Hour, that he was their leader, and that he had been the one to defeat that which could not be defeated by giving up his life. "Guess you got lucky in that department, huh?" he asked.

Saki nodded, and immediately reached for her cigarettes the second she was outside Junpei's dormitory.

---

Junpei and Fuuka just couldn't keep quiet. Word spread quickly, and Saki found herself juggling a handful of "clients" several years before she could become an official psychologist. There was Ken Amada, several years Yukari's junior who certainly didn't act that way; Mitsuru Korijo, _that_ Mitsuru Korijo, something of an idol in the eyes of Saki's parents, who might've molded her in Korijo's image had they the time and mental clarity to do so; a dog, with who Saki was not sure what to do besides pet him; and lastly, most perplexedly, a robot named Aigis, whose intellect was as advanced as any other human Saki had talked to. Still, she found it odd talking to a robot about loss, grief and death.

But it was all the same: she talked to them, comforted them, shook their hand or gave them a hug and the miracle felt like it was coming closer, though she wasn't sure why. Psychology was wonderful, but could it really perform miracles?

---

She always returned to Japan. Every chance she got, she booked a flight out of Oxford and flew to Japan—and Rise liked that, because Saki was a good party accessory. She dragged Saki from one public outing to the next, and the tabloids likes to speculate that Saki was Risette's boyfriend until they found out that Saki was a girl. Oh, well. Saki was now Risette's girlfriend. Oh, the scandal! Risette laughed at the media for their creative interpretation of the truth, but, oh, how she _teased_ Saki. Saki, for her part, was not interested. Rise was cute, always had been, but Saki can't escape the feeling that Rise just wanted her as an experiment.

And as someone to yell at, because Saki read her homework in the club, trying to decipher the words in the dark. "You're going to ruin your eyes!" warned Rise in a motherly tone, and sure enough, Saki found that her vision was terrible. She discovered this in Inaba during one of her visits to Dojima and Nanako, who still called her "big bro". It was sheer luck that she ran into Teddie, who said he found her old glasses back in the TV world. He asked why they're broken, and Saki had no answer. She was embarrassed. No it wasn't a monster, no it wasn't Izanami, it was just some old fashioned dramatic flair. Didn't matter to Teddie, anyway. He fixed the glasses.

She used these "new" glasses to drive up and down Japan, usually to Tatsumi Port Island or thereabouts, because she felt an urge go there and to talk to people: shop owners, gourmands, former athletes, even that pretty girl she met back when Yasogami High students visited Gekkoukan High. Soon the connecting thread became clear: they all feel sad about that boy and how he died so suddenly. Saki gave them a sympathetic ear, and tried, delicately, to discuss his death without giving too much away. She stressed the importance of life, of enjoying it, and they understood and recalled how the boy, by his presence and patient ear, made them appreciate life in a way they couldn't before. It was a shame he was gone, and they wanted him back, but mourning his death the way they had erased all the good he had done for them. They would remember him again, recall his presence, by enjoying the life he had taught them to appreciate—and by doing so, bring Saki one step closer to that miracle.

---

The last one she met was a police officer out in some bar in some city Rise had followed her to out of a sense of duty. Rise could not bear the thought of a certified doctor returning from a city as boring as Baltimore only to go roaming around as she did when she was in Japan. Rise thought the guy checking them out was cute, and he totally _was_ checking them out despite his attempts to be coy about it. He seemed more interested in Saki than Rise. That was okay. Rise thought Saki-senpai was way cute, too.

The minute Saki found out he was a cop she thought of Dojima, and thought that the deal should have been broken, that she should have backed away and thanked him for his interest. But he was cute, and he was nice, and he was a good dancer. When she asked where he learned to dance he joked and said he was a boxer in another life. She said that had nothing to do with anything, and he laughed. They left Rise behind to hope dirty things for the pair of them, but they do nothing more than walk and talk. Saki revealed that she was fresh from studying psychology in in America. "I think I've heard of you," he said. She lifted an eyebrow. "Know a guy named Junpei Iori? Fuuka Yamagishi?"

"Fuuka isn't a guy."

He laughed. "No, but I remember a few years ago they were talking about some psychology student named Saki."

"Could be more than one psychology student named Saki. But, yes, I do know them."

She felt disappointed. He was one of _them_, one of those people she had to talk to in order to get closer to the miracle. It would have been nice had he been a random attractive man in a bar.

They went to the hotel room to talk, nothing more. Saki felt that she had the words of comfort down pat, that she could have done this conversation with her eyes closed and half-asleep, and she wished, more intensely than she ever had before, that she wasn't special, that this favor had not been asked of her and that she had never taken it. This wasn't like high school, where the concept of being the hero, the leader, the one who could use multiple personae was new. The burden of doing great things had worn on her, and she was tired, she was frustrated, and to be quite frank she hadn't had sex since she broke up with her girlfriend four months ago. There was a man sitting on her bed right now, an attractive man who was nice and hadn't made her feel preyed on or odd for looking just slightly masculine. Sure, he reminded her of her uncle, but not enough to stop her from initiating anything. This might have been smart, might have been stupid, but she was out of her chair and on the bed and kissing him because he was there, fully expecting to be pushed away.

She wasn't.

It was glorious for the few minutes that it lasted, permeated as it was by the same worry she heard whenever she was with somebody else (_what would Yosuke think?_), but he was as good a kisser as he was a dancer, for all that he seemed a loner to her. But now that she was kissing him she couldn't stop think that she had to find where he rested, that she might perform a miracle...

She broke off the kiss. He was confused, and rightly so. That didn't matter. What did matter was that she got an answer to her question: "Where are Minato Arisato's remains?"


	7. Chapter 7: Thriller

**Chapter 7: Thriller**

Akihiko Sanada wasn't that experienced on the romance front, he had to admit. He was too withdrawn, too dedicated to whatever professional label was foisted on him—boxer, cop, both made incredible demands on his time—and the women who were drawn to him weren't that interesting. Sad to say that was true of this woman's friend. Risette. _The_ Risette. Wasn't too often you bumped into an idol at random, not even in a city. There had to be more to Risette if she was friends with this woman, Saki, but he didn't see it in the bar with the giggling and the teasing. Saki seemed different, Saki _was_ different, for reasons other than the ones evident now. She was quiet, she was thoughtful, and everything his friends had said about her was true. She understood people on a much deeper level than regular folks could. And, yeah, she was cute. A bit masculine in her appearance and in her voice, but she was cute, and a damn good kisser. A pity it had to end with—

"What?"

"His remains. I need to get to his remains."

"The hell do you need to do that for?"

"Because...this will sound crazy, but..." She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, then proceeded: "About...eight or nine years ago I met a woman, named Elizabeth, who told me to find everyone the boy had 'bonded' with, and that when I had done so I should find where he rested, to possibly perform a miracle."

"You're right; that does sound crazy." He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know anyone named Elizabeth."

"I doubt you would. She's from the Velvet Room. I was the only one in my group who could access it. I assume he was the only one in your group who could, too." She rose to her feet. "This makes no sense to you."

"I wouldn't say that..." he said thoughtfully. The part about her needing to get his remains? Yes, that made no sense to him. The Velvet Room, and Minato being the only one who could access it? He remembered that name, remembered breaching the subject with Minato and Aigis, remembered being there, once, when the battle against their despair was done. "All things considered, it's a hard place to forget," he said, standing up and moving in front of her. She stared back at him, confused. "It's a room that looks like an elevator, right?"

"No...it was a limo. There was a man there with a long nose, named Igor. He had an assistant named Margaret. Elizabeth's sister. Elizabeth was there before, but she left."

"Then it looked different for you than it did to us. But the long nosed creep was there, and the woman, too. Elizabeth, I guess. Blonde woman, short hair?"

Saki nodded. "You've been there before?"

"It's a long story. So you're saying this woman Elizabeth told you to go to find his remains?"

"To go where he rests. I think she meant to his remains."

"Right." He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Ever been to one of those interactive grave sites? They store the remains underneath the building, and all you need to do is use a card to pull them up. There's one in Iwatodai City, run by the Kirijo Group. Mitsuru's company. She let his family store his remains there as a courtesy. I'm calling her now." He pressed the button to pull up her number on speed dail and lifted the phone to his ear. "And by the way," he added, "I'm driving you there, and I'm driving you in handcuffs."

---

He placed the handcuffs on her when they were inside the car. She didn't protest, just sat in the passenger's seat silently, staring at the windshield.

Mitsuru had sounded as confused and appalled as he felt. She caved when he explained this woman was getting her orders from the Velvet Room, though the suspicion was still audible. That was all right. He was suspicious, himself. That's why she was in handcuffs. He doubted she was going to put up much of a fuss—she wasn't, now—but you never know. She could use multiple personae. Perhaps his handcuffs were useless.

He glanced at her occasionally as they drove to the graveyard. She looked pale in the light of the full moon, her hair color (or lack thereof) and dark clothes adding to the pallor. She remained as silent as she had been when the trip began, staring out at the windshield with a sickly-looking serenity. The silence weighed on him. "Look, I'm only doing this as a precaution," he said. "I know strange things can happen. Hell, I've dealt with it being on the force, but you can never be certain about anything. Once we get there and prove you aren't trying to hurt us or steal...I'll let you out of the cuffs, all right?"

She smirked, still staring at the windshield.

"What?" he asked, noticing her expression.

She said nothing, but the bemused (and somewhat fond) smirk remained.

---

Mitsuru was waiting for them in the lobby when they arrived. She had obviously dressed in a rush, her hair loose and disheveled, her face free of make-up and her clothes simple. Akihiko wasn't sure why he was looking back and forth between the two women (or, rather, he had an idea, and thought the truth too frivolous to acknowledge), but noticed Mitsuru was doing this as well, staring at Saki, staring at him, as if she couldn't figure out if one was a threat, as if she couldn't figure out what the other meant to her. "So you said someone from the Velvet Room sent you on this mission," she said, keeping her eyes fixed on Saki, who nodded. "Can we trust her?" she asked Akihiko.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he replied.

"I have to say, it doesn't make sense that she would want to steal his remains. For what purpose? Ransom?"

"I didn't have that in mind, but you do head the Kirijo Group," said Saki. Mitsuru and Akihiko both looked at her, Mitsuru with irritation, Akihiko with surprise. He had the impression that Saki had sworn off talking.

"And what exactly did you have in mind?" asked Mitsuru.

Saki shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"This isn't the time for jokes, Seta-san."

"I wasn't joking. About the ransom, I was, but I...I have no idea what's going to happen next. So if you want him to take me to jail, or shoot me, tell him to do it now. Otherwise, please. Take me to his remains. I want this over with as much as you do."

Mitsuru looked between Saki and Akihiko as she had before, this time with apprehension and uncertainty. "Follow me," she said.

---

The urn was placed inside an office of one of this building's administrators. Akihiko still had Saki in handcuffs. She wasn't protesting, and hadn't said anything on the way up, not even when Akihiko had asked her if she was all right. Mitsuru had directed a glance in their direction then, but in the dim light it was hard to read her expression. Saki, on the other hand, kept her eyes on the ground with the same far-away look she had in the car. Her eyes were on the urn, now, the far-away look long gone. Now she just looked afraid. Akihiko had to fight to keep his grip on her arm from doing more than holding her in place. She didn't need his protection. He knew that much based on her abilities, and he could feel the muscle underneath the clothes that made her look so deceptively thin. She might not be a trained professional, but she could break free and kick his ass if she chose to. So she didn't need his protection; but fear wasn't a good look on her.

"What are you going to do?" Mitsuru asked. She was standing behind the desk, arms folded across her chest and hips swayed in one direction. Her usual stance, the one that said she always meant business, but tonight it wasn't as authoritative. She was tired and uncertain and unsure what was going on and how to handle it.

"I have no idea," was Saki's reply. She looked to Akihiko, and he felt his grip slip into that protective, comforting gesture he told himself not to make. Her lips thinned into a concerned line, and she nodded, a gesture that reminded him so much of Minato—a gesture a leader would give to his, _her_, subordinate, a silent command to let go and let her proceed alone. He looked to Mitsuru, as if she could give him another command, but her face was just as uncertain as before.

He let go of Saki's arm.

She walked forward, hands still in the cuffs, to the desk where the urn was. Akihiko said nothing, but felt his hand move towards his gun. Gingerly, Saki opened the urn, placed the lid on the desk, and stared inside. She had told him she might perform a miracle. What was that? Would Minato pop out of the urn as if the cremation process had been reversed? Unlikely, but unlikelier things had happened. He watched in silence, waiting for her to do more than stare into the urn. He was starting to wonder, again, if she was crazy. Mitsuru was starting to lose her patience. "Well?" she asked. Saki looked up to her. As he was standing behind her, Akihiko could not see her expression.

Without warning, she picked up the urn and dumped its contents on the desk.

Mitsuru and Akihiko both cried out in unison. Saki disregarded them. She touched the remains just briefly, then jumped back, into Akihiko, who had rushed forward to grab her arm. "What the hell...?" He couldn't finish his question, because he caught sight of the desk, the remains...that were moving, morphing, connecting...

"Oh my god."

The process probably took only a few seconds. Watching it felt longer, much longer. They barely registered what they were seeing until the process was complete, and Minato's body was left sprawled out on the desk.

---

Saki sat in the hallway in her unladylike manner, hands dropped between her legs. She stared at the floor, secretly proud of herself. She hadn't had a single thought in the last few minutes, had finally ended the litany of how much she hated hospitals. Now she could focus on falling into an oblivion where the hospital that surrounded her did not exist.

It was daybreak outside. Rise was probably wondering where she was. She sighed, pulling her head back to rest on the wall, feeling tired for the first time during this entire ordeal. She noticed someone sit next to her out the corner of her eye. Akihiko, probably.

"Hey."

Akihiko definitely.

"You all right?"

Saki nodded, once. It could've been a yes, could've been her beating her head against the wall.

"They said he's gonna be fine. Hell, said he doesn't have to stay in the hospital."

"That's good. I hate hospitals." The last part she spat out against her better intentions.

"Heh. Don't we all?" He paused. She looked over to him; he was staring at his hands. "Need a ride back?" he asked, looking up at her. She shook her head.

"You've helped enough already. Don't you need a ride back, too?"

He scratched the back of his head. "I guess I do," he said with a laugh. She offered a very weak, tired grin. He'd probably take the train if he didn't ride back with her. Either way, once they separated they'd probably never see each other again, unless he became a patient. A shame.

"Another thing," said Akihiko. "Minato, he...he really wants to speak to you. Can you do that before you leave?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Ah, you wanna do that now or..."

She stood up. "Take me to him."

---

They were right: for all that he had been dead for over a decade, he was looking remarkably healthy. Dissheveled, yes. She supposed that's how you looked when you came out of an urn. "Hi," she said, crossing over to the side of his bed with a small smile. It wasn't returned. She took no offense.

"You're the one I told to get up, aren't you?" he said. She blinked out of surprise.

"...yes. That was me." Beat. "And I thank you for that."

"And you're the one who revived me."

"I'm not sure I can take credit for that."

"It was Elizabeth's idea, wasn't it?" He seemed sad. She frowned, but nodded.

"You knew her."

Minato nodded. "I think that she...I'm not sure why, but I think that she..."

Saki reached out for one of his hands. "Whatever she did, she did for you. Just like you did for me."

"I never put myself in your place." He stared down to their hands, and she felt something sink into her stomach: a realization that she had not considered before. If Minato no longer was the seal...

"Hey, listen." She extended her other hand, covering both theirs. "I told you she did this for you. So you could live. I knew her sister. She told me about you, said her sister had left the Velvet Room to save you. That she would do the same for me if necessary. I guess they know, for all we sacrificed, it wasn't fair to ask us to sacrifice our lives."

"But I chose to be the seal. I _chose_ to die."

"And Elizabeth chose to save you."

Minato lifted his gaze to hers. He had been holding back tears. Saki couldn't even begin to comprehend what he was going through. Extreme survivor's guilt? Was he angry and thinking Elizabeth had invalidated all he had done? Analyzing him was useless. All she had was sympathy. "I'm sorry you lost your friend," she said, "but I think she did what she did so you could finally know what it was like to live."

And as Saki looked at him in earnest, pressing his hand between both of hers, she had to wonder: would anyone on this Earth do that for her?

---

Minato had gone with Saki because Saki had little history with him. She hadn't been his friend, hadn't been his lover. There would be no awkward tension between her and Minato, no regrets that would color the way she treated him. Of course, Minato was not entirely free from the supervision of his old friends, or, rather, an old _friend_, but that was a detail Yosuke didn't need to know. And it was over.

She was feeling tipsy. Yosuke had cleared one glass. She stared at him indirectly, wondering how long it would take for him to get drunk. She kicked back the rest of her glass, her third of the night, certain Yosuke appreciated the lull in conversation. He had spent it ruminating over what she had said. She could see his mind working to comprehend it, see him trying to think of something to say. All he came up with was, "Just...wow." He fell into silence again, then asked, "Why didn't you tell Naoto?"

"Because I don't want to get arrested."

"That Sanada guy—I mean, Akihiko. He didn't arrest you, did he?"

"He's not Naoto Shirogane," Saki said, looking away from Yosuke, staring at her watch. She sighed. It was late. "I should go home." She reached for the bottle she had been drinking, shooting Yosuke a concerned look. "I'd appreciate if you kept this private."

Yosuke nodded. "You got it."

"You promise?"

He leaned forward, extending his hand, placing it on top of hers. "Yeah, I promise," he said. That would have been her cue to leave, to offer him a smile before she got up and walked away, but the simple gesture made moving impossible. Her eyes were locked on his, and she had to ask herself just what was she here for again? To tell him about Minato? Suddenly, too suddenly, she pulled her hand away, toppling the bottle over. Thank goodness the top was secured. She grabbed the bottle neck again, pushed her seat back and rose to her feet, rubbing her forehead. Yosuke followed suit, standing up and looking awkward for all she could tell through the hand obscuring part of her view.

"I'll see you later, okay?" she said quickly.

"Yeah."

She grinned, still rubbing her forehead, and let him open the door for her on the way out. She took a decent sip from the bottle once she stood outside the building. But damn, it had been a long year, what with adopting an undead teenager and falling in love with his old upperclassman. And it was over, all because of the man she had left up in his apartment wondering what that awkward moment was about. So many exes had their theories about her and Yosuke Hanamura, Akihiko Sanada included. Maybe they had a point, as much as she didn't want to admit it. Problem was, after the year she had, if she didn't figure out how she felt about Yosuke, she'd be damned for life.

She didn't want to be hung up on _two_ men instead of one.


	8. Chapter 8: Never Can Say Goodbye

**Chapter Eight: Never can Say Goodbye**

Yosuke woke up the following morning with a headache. The bottle of alcohol left to him the previous night sat in the kitchen trash, its contents the source of Yosuke's headache. He wouldn't have drank so much if he hadn't the day off.

Breakfast was light by circumstance. Past experience taught him to mistrust food cooked by unskilled cookers, a group which included himself. His refrigerator and cabinets did not contain much food as a result, and eating breakfast at a restaurant was out of the question today. He had no other choice but to eat this tiny, unfilling breakfast.

Around eleven he figured leaving the apartment would do him good, as the headache had abated and he could now think. But where would he begin? The story of Minato's resurrection seemed easy to grasp and required only that Yosuke accept and believe it—simple to do, as he had nothing to contradict it. That touch, and Souji's reaction to it, wasn't so easily comprehended. Such a simple thing to cause confusion in the face of all he had learned last night, but matters of attraction were never so simple when it came to Yosuke and Souji.

Back in high school, Yosuke used to call admiration what by any other name would be attraction. If he stared, he stared because he admired Souji's look. If he stared after he knew she was a girl, he stared because he admired how she pulled off the masculine look. If he stared while her appearance alternated between the sexes, that, too, was admiration, even when he found himself staring at her chest or her ass or her lips. He knew that was all bullshit now. Was it the same for her, this unrelenting attraction? And wouldn't that be something if it were true? Sounded like a corny romance novel, yeah, but he'd take that. It was a million times better than life was presently. He'd have to talk to her, see where she stood, see if he could coax her into his arms because he was just that lonely. She was his partner. She'd understand.

He had walked to the floodplains in his musings and now stood several feet away from the shore of the riverbed, his eyes fixating on a lone figure sitting on the rocks, throwing stones into the river. Yosuke chuckled at the irony. He wanted to talk to a certain silver-haired individual, and life gave him a different one. But what the hell? Part of figuring out what to do with Souji could be solved by talking to her boyfriend, or her ex-boyfriend or friend or whatever the hell he was. As long as the guy didn't try to beat him up, they'd be fine.

"Hey," Yosuke said as he stopped next to Sanada on the rocky shore. The other man glanced at Yosuke—hard to read, it being a mixture of emotions which Yosuke guessed might be resentment and sadness—then looked back to the river, resuming his steady fire of stones.

"Hello," he replied, tiredly.

"You know how to make them skip?"

"I'm not interested in making them skip."

Yosuke lifted a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to introduce myself last night. My name is—"

"Yosuke Hanamura."

The hand dropped, and was immediately shoved into a pocket. "Ah. Guess she told you."

"Described a guy I met at the Amagi Inn last evening that fit the description of her old friend." Splunk. "Yeah, she told me."

"Oh. Well, she say much about me? We're old friends and all—"

SPLASH.

"Yeah, she's told me a few things about you," Sanada said, almost growled.

"Ah, um." What to say, what to say, that wouldn't make this guy splash his next stone into Yosuke's head? So she was at my apartment last night and she told me you guys met at a bar and that you helped bring a dead kid back to life? Yeah, no. "S-so how are you finding Inaba so far?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

"So I guess you aren't finding it all that good."

"I didn't come here to sight-see."

"Oh. So, you're just visiting Souji."

Sanada squinted up at Yosuke. "Who?"

"Um..." he stared down to his feet. "S-saki."

"Oh. Yeah." Splash. "She asked me to come here."

"To show you around Inaba?"

"No. To say goodbye."

To say goodbye. The first response that popped in Yosuke's mind was _So that means she's dumping you?_ But that was too callous, and he might've asked it with unconcealed glee. He squatted next to Sanada, toying with the rocks beneath his feet. "Sorry to hear that," he said.

"The hell you are," Sanada replied.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yosuke snapped.

"Most folks only say that to pretend like they care."

"Who's saying I don't?"

Sanada gave him a flat look. "What did you really want to say?"

God, looking him in the eye like that—fucking cops. The good ones made you feel transparent, the way Sanada's look made him feel now. Yosuke lowered his gaze to the rocks, picking one to throw into the water. "So...were you guys dating before?" he asked.

"Yeah. We were."

"What happened?"

"The past."

"The past?"

"She was always wondering about someone else."

Yosuke looked back up to the other man. "Who?"

The look Sanada gave him was familiar. It was that same look Souji gave him when he couldn't quite grasp what she meant when she mentioned Chie and Dojima going on vacation at the same time. "Look, man, I'm sorry," Yosuke said earnestly.

"It's not your fault," Sanada replied. "It's...I can't keep her."

_Did you even try?_ Yosuke thought, but didn't say. That would be encouraging him. He heard Sanada sigh and rise to his feet, dropping the rock in his hand to the ground below.

"I hope she finds her answer," he said, "and whatever it is, I hope it makes her happy."

"Yeah," Yosuke replied, suppressing a self-satisfied grin. "I hope so, too."

---

She ended the call. A new patient for the books, one with an unfortunate name and an unfortunate occupation: Maya Amano, journalist. Both sounded much too much like the woman whose death lead Saki to where she was now, practicing telecommuting psychology in this country town. How Amano got Saki's name, she didn't know, but Amano was one of those special types of patients whose story only Saki could believe.

It was close to leaving time when Saki finished her work concerning Amano. She leaned back in her chair, staring at one of the photographs on her desk: the entire Investigation Team at the train station, the only picture on her desk that featured Yosuke. She frowned, reached for a book sitting innocuously on her desk and cracked open the cover, picking out a picture between the cover and the front page: her and Akihiko in the Ayanagi police force's favorite bar.

She had decided to stay in Ayanagi to work on the last steps to becoming an official psychologist. It was a nice enough city, and Minato had no particular preference as to where they lived. Akihiko had been sparse, but he called often to check on them both. She would have expected him to be more interested in Minato's well being, but from the start he took equal interest in her. He was a gentleman, guarded the way men of his job tended to be, but kind. She liked it. She wasn't one to go for chivalry. It was her job to be the knight in shining armor, no one else's; but if chivalry wasn't dead it was certainly rare and hard to go unappreciated whenever she saw it. Even better: Akihiko didn't try to impose his chivalry on her. Obviously he figured a woman who could use multiple personae was not a woman who needed his unwarranted protection, nevermind that it was foolish to underestimate anyone, foe or friend.

Friend. They were friends, right? Mightn't have started out that way, but that's what they were until all those shared smiles, all those shared glances, lead to something more. Took a while for them to get there—they didn't want to initiate anything while Minato was looking—but they got there, everything stolen: kisses, time alone together, the connection of hands when the other officers weren't looking. But his coworkers caught on eventually, as did Minato. There was no need to be secret anymore.

And yet, there was a cloud: Yosuke. Falling in love with someone else felt like she was cheating. She hadn't cleared it with her partner, hadn't cleared any of her love affairs with her partner, hadn't asked him if it was okay if she set up camp in a place that wasn't Inaba, hadn't done any of that despite that they hadn't kept in regular contact for years. So why was she so concerned? Why was she so...hung up? Was it love, or sheer curiosity? She didn't know, and she tried to ignore it. Didn't do any good. Akihiko noticed and the cloud passed over him, leading them down the path that ended in Inaba, with Akihiko about to leave her again. As if she were the only person in this relationship who was hung up on somebody else. She let Akihiko leave her, because that's what she was used to: saying goodbye. Her eyes shifted to the photograph of her and her old friends, another goodbye, another reminder that relationships were transitory.

But Yosuke...

She wasn't sure _why_, but in her mind Yosuke had become the key to keeping solitude at bay. He was her best friend, and best friends never abandoned each other. And she was in Inaba for a reason, wasn't she? This wasn't all just coincidence, no. This was a opportunity to satisfy all the curiosities that had been brewing the minute Yosuke crashed in front of her on her first day at Yasogami High.

She grabbed her keys, her wallet, phone, and briefcase, shoving Amano's documents inside of it. She had to pay Yosuke another visit.

---

_Buzz._

As always, he hadn't been expecting anyone, but he wasn't surprised to hear the buzz, nor was he surprised to discover his visitor's identity. He let her in without comment and watched in silence as she sat at his table and lit a cigarette, gazing at the smoke as if searching for an answer.

"So what'd you come here for?" he asked. She continued to stare at the smoke.

"To talk," she replied. "I know we haven't done much of it since I walked through the door."

Yosuke chuckled. "Not really, no." He looked down to his feet. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest. "So, I, ah, I spoke your friend today..." He rose his head. Souji was still staring at the smoke. Her eyebrows were raised.

"I thought that was last night."

"Um, yeah, last night, too. But I saw him over by the river today. Thought I'd say hello. He's...he's a nice guy."

"Hmm." She stared at the cigarette itself, now, her hand raised level to her face. "I think he's misguided about a few things. Then again he could be right." She brought the cigarette to her lips, taking a drag, letting the smoke blow out without giving it the same examination as before. "Can I ask you something, Yosuke?"

"Sure."

"Do you...like me? As more than a friend?" She looked at him. He immediately closed his mouth, which had been hanging open.

"Um..."

"Please don't lie."

Dammit. Second time today he had felt seen through, only she did it with words rather than stares. "Okay, fine," he blurted out. "I'm...yes."

"You're yes what?"

"I--" The floor suddenly became interesting to him. "I'm...attracted to you," he muttered, as if it were being pulled out of him. How pathetic did he have to be, to have flown so high this morning on the thought of winning her heart, only to feel so low just admitting the truth? He heard her chair scrape back and looked up, seeing her approach him with an unreadable expression. "You're not gonna punch me?" he asked weakly. She had every right to. But she didn't.

She kissed him instead.

He had heard girls swooning over Souji back at school, trying to imagine how good a kisser he was. If what Yosuke experienced now was true then, the girls were right—and Souji was, perhaps, far better than they imagined. And he wondered if kissing back would ruin the moment. What if he wasn't as good? What if he couldn't measure up? But the more he stood still, the more insistently she kissed him, and the harder it was for him to resist kissing back.

She didn't pull away. In fact, she was kissing him more thoroughly. He felt his hands, once frozen by his sides, start to roam up and down her back, felt the body underneath the fabric. He found himself more willing than ever to imagine that body, and want that body, and want to see that body and touch it, feel it, without the barrier of clothing...

She pulled away.

"What...?" he asked, breathless and feeling as if he had been dumped in a field by a cyclone.

She shook her head. "I don't think this is right."

"What do you mean it's not right?"

"Just what it sounded like. I'm sorry, Yosuke."

And just like that, she left him behind—just like she had done ten years ago.

The table probably didn't deserve it, but he took his anger out on it, anyway.

---

Saki had long since eradicated the new car smell with months of smoking inside the car, sometimes with the window down and sometimes without, as it was now. Wasn't that she hated to breathe; she just forgot to roll the windows down sometimes. She felt she could be excused for that given the events that had transpired.

Yosuke, if he indeed had never stopped pitying himself, was likely cursing fate for being so unfair. A patented Saki Seta kiss. How many people got those? ...a fair few over the years, but Yosuke had been waiting for ten of them, and she had been waiting as long to find out what it was like to be his lover. And she hadn't gone further than a kiss, stopped as soon as it began. Sleeping with him would have produced the same results: a gaping void where passion was meant to be. She had felt nothing. All those insistent, deep kisses were nothing more than her going through the motions of how she was supposed to kiss someone. Wearing another mask.

So that hang up had all been in her head. So what? Where did that leave her? Did she have to beg Akihiko to take her back? He was leaving tomorrow. She could not ask him to stay longer, even if she didn't want him to leave.

Was that her phone going off?

She reached inside her pocket, pulling out her cell phone, and stared at the screen—immediately flicking open. It was Yukari. "Hello?"

"Hey, Saki?"

"You haven't called in weeks."

"Sorry. I've been busy." There was a pause. Saki could hear barely anything in the background. "I heard about you and Akihiko."

"Yeah." She paused to take another drag and puff of the cigarette. "He's an idiot."

"I know."

"He's here, in Inaba, though. Just. To say goodbye. He's leaving tomorrow."

"Really?" Yukari sounded a bit disappointed. "When? Mitsuru and I are coming into town tomorrow."

Saki nearly swallowed her cigarette. "What?"

"You know we're thinking about opening an office for the Kirijo Group there? Well, Mitsuru and I are coming over to scout and negotiate the location. The meeting's tomorrow. I thought maybe we could all have lunch together."

"He's leaving at noon."

"Really? That's too bad. You think...you think maybe Minato can come?"

"Depends on where we're eating."

"Someplace near the school, I guess."

"I can think of a place. And...I can see if I can get the idiot to come, too."

Yukari laughed. "There's no pressure to. Honestly I think Mitsuru and I both want to kill him over that."

Saki grinned wryly. "Do you mean kill or execute?"

Yukari laughed again. "That, too. Oh, shoot. I gotta go. Call me back later with the name of the restaurant? It was good talking to you, Saki."

"And you. Take care." She flipped her mobile phone closed, looking at the number flashing on the screen with a fond smile—that soon dissipated. Why was she thinking of Yosuke all of a sudden? Probably because Yosuke was her usual lunch date, and the idea of snubbing him for friends she had made after she knew him... No. There she went again, thinking she needed permission from Yosuke. Still...he hadn't met Yukari or Mitsuru, had he?

She felt a little sick. Did that have anything to do with the prospect of inviting Yosuke over for lunch after what happened? Or was she thinking about talking to Akihiko again when it was clear they had no future? Or was she feeling simple, inescapable loneliness?


End file.
